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" You needn’t play, Mr. Weston,” Emma said. “I only agreed to play for Lizzie’s sake, so . . .” “Oh, come, Miss Smallwood. Please tell me you don’t shun all things athletic as you did as a girl.” A teasing light shone in his eyes. “Afraid you’ll lose?” Emma huffed. “I am not afraid to lose. I know I shall. This isn’t chess, after all.” One eyebrow rose. “Oh, ho! A shot to the heart. The lady recalls soundly trouncing me, I see. Then you must give me a chance to redeem myself.” He set aside his hat and adopted a ready stance, bouncing lightly from foot to foot. He looked fifteen years old all over again. Emma felt a grin lift a corner of her mouth. “Oh, very well. But promise not to laugh too hard.” “I promise. "
― Julie Klassen , The Tutor's Daughter
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" Eye on the shuttlecock, she ran forward, raised her battledore high, and slammed right into Henry Weston’s chest. The wind knocked from her, Emma lost her balance and might have fallen had not Mr. Weston’s arms shot out and caught her about the waist and shoulder. “Oh,” she cried, embarrassed to have plowed into the man. Embarrassed to find his arms around her. Embarrassed to find she liked it. “I’m so sorry,” she blurted, pushing away from him. “Don’t be. I admire your singular focus. My goodness, Miss Smallwood, where is the timid little creature who flinched at every flying bird as though it were a cricket ball headed for her nose?” Emma straightened and righted her off-kilter bonnet. “I was determined not to embarrass myself,” she admittedly breathlessly. “Only to do just that.” He chuckled, and their eyes met in a moment of shared levity. Then he sobered. “Thank you for the laugh, Miss Smallwood. Just what I needed after yesterday. "
― Julie Klassen , The Tutor's Daughter
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" Father, we are grateful that you are our perfect eternal King, sovereign forever, and that you love us and forgive us and adopt us as son and daughter. We are in reality unworthy peasants, but you see us as prince and princess, children of the King, through the sacrifice of your Son, Jesus, our savior and deliverer, and it is in His name we pray. Amen. "
― Julie Klassen , The Secret of Pembrooke Park